


Hopeful Hearts

by surprisepink



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, Edelthea Week (Fire Emblem), F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Canon, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisepink/pseuds/surprisepink
Summary: Sometimes it takes years for the timing to be right.(Or: Five Times Edelgard and Dorothea Could Have Fallen In Love, and One Time They Finally Did)Written for Edelthea week day 7: together/future.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	Hopeful Hearts

_1180: Lone Moon_

It may have been early in the school year, but this point she'd had years to amass experience mixing and mingling with the upper class, and it had become easy enough to slip into the appropriate persona she expected to need around her new classmates. It was a thin line upon which she needed to walk, the line between honesty and flattery. Mittlefrank had its share of illustrious patrons, and each and every one of them had been eager for a personal encounter with the newest prima donna, their pockets heavy with gold and their tongues loosened by drink. Each event was the same: smile, nod, don't create any drama, avoid any discussion of politics, pretend what the old men with wandering eyes had to say was enlightening. Smile, smile, smile. Soon the acting had come to her almost as naturally as singing had, and that was precisely what she expected from Garreg Mach.

Instead, she found herself thrust into the eclectic mix of young nobles that made up the Black Eagle house. Some of the other students still tried to treat her like a queen, but the class themselves quickly did their best to take her in as one of their own. Opera patrons would open bottles at the barest hint that she might break a nail, but Caspar had asked on their second day whether she knew how to swing an axe and if not, would she like to learn? Even in singing in church - the one place she expected to be praised - she could barely be heard over Ferdinand apparently trying to show the rest of them up if only in sheer volume.

Soon enough, she grew used to this treatment; it was much more enjoyable than having to constantly be on her best behavior. A young woman less prepared might have fully let her guard down, might have quickly joined in on the fun and forgotten her goals, spending her days as if she, too, had few stakes riding on her year here. Dorothea was no such young woman, so she kept her eye on the prize - at least, at first.

Their leader, she soon learned, was perhaps the most eclectic noble of them all, and it was Edelgard who made her guard begin to slip one day soon after the school year began.

Edelgard stood in the doorway of the classroom, squarely in the middle of Dorothea's escape route, hands on her hips and chest out. Dorothea had secretly wondered if she had the intimidation factor necessary to take the throne, petite as she was, but now there was an intensity in her gaze, an expression that Dorothea couldn't fully read, and that was far more frightening than anything else could have been.

"Can I help you?" she asked, hoping her own expression was neutral. She'd enjoyed minimal contact with the princess thus far, despite Edelgard making a point to say hello to her every morning - because it would be unsightly to only greet the others, Dorothea had assumed. It seemed like a mistake to get involved with her, lest she make some misstep and anger the Emperor; one of the most important skills around nobles, she had learned, was how to make a polite retreat before getting in too deep. The rest of the group seemed not to share her concerns, but things were different for her, who had no noble parents from which to inherit a title.

"You can, if you're not too busy. I've been meaning to have a talk with you. Can I ask you to accompany me to my room?"

At the opera, with a gentleman patron, such a phrase would have a very specific meaning (one that Edelgard might barely realize if she’d had a sheltered upbringing) and Dorothea would have to tread carefully to maintain decorum without agreeing to anything that she'd prefer not to. Now, the meaning was fully different, and yet her response was the same.

"Can we talk here instead? I... would prefer not to impose, and I'm sure you're busy."

It was likely enough that Edelgard's shadow was lurking a stone's throw away, but the classroom seemed private enough, and Edelgard seemed to agree. "The location doesn't matter so much, I just wanted to speak with you."

There was an authority to Edelgard's voice, a sense of determination that was beyond her years. Par for the course for a future emperor, Dorothea supposed. She quickly pondered the events of the last few weeks, searching for some misstep she may have made to earn Edelgard's ire.

"...you're not in trouble, Dorothea. I apologize if I scared you, Bernadetta has told me I come off as frightening when I say things like that."

"Oh goodness, there's nothing frightening about you at all!" Dorothea replied, secretly relieved. "So... what's going on, Princess?"

"First of all, I'd prefer if you refrain from calling me that. Edelgard is fine... preferable, actually."

She'd introduced herself that way on the first day of school - largely a formality, since she had already been on a first-name basis with the lot of them - and stated quite firmly that none of them had any need for honorifics or titles as long as they were students, equals. But plenty of the upper class said as much, and still expected to be coddled and spoken to like royalty as long as they weren't halfway into a bottle of wine and twittering with a prima donna.

"Edelgard, then." The name felt strange on her tongue, but not wrong. Noble protector, was it? It wasn't a stuffy old title, and it suited the young woman standing before her with a fire in her eyes and a firmness in her words. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"Dorothea, are you happy here? It's my duty as house leader to make sure my classmates are comfortable, and I fear it may be more of a struggle for you than the others."

There were a thousand things Edelgard could have said that would have been met by Dorothea's own quick tongue, but she lacked a response for a question so simple, so genuine. Surely, it wasn't so obvious that she hadn't fit into the group like the puzzle pieces that most of the others had; surely her acting skills were refined enough that she was able to mimic blending in. A chameleon when she needed to be, Dorothea wasn't going to let herself be exposed so easily.

"Oh really?" she asked. "I'm not sure why you'd think that, you've all been perfectly kind to me."

"It's only logical, isn't it?" Edelgard replied. "Many of us have known each other since childhood, and the rest have some type of history or connection. Most of our parents are allies, a tightly knit social circle, regardless of how well they may or may not get along on a daily basis."

"I'm an outsider, I know. It doesn't bother me."

Edelgard frowned. "On the contrary, you're a valuable addition to our group. We're just not sure how to make that clear."

It was hard to put much weight in Edelgard's pretty words when it was doubtful that she'd feel the same way about Dorothea under any other circumstances. Had she been a patron of the opera, she'd likely be polite but distant, pulling her companion to the side lest he let his eyes linger on her for too long. Had she been the one to find Dorothea starving in the street, well... it was nothing personal, but most people didn't offer her a second glance.

That was what the logical part of her mind said, at least; the other, more emotional side of her was ready to believe Edelgard, ready to let her guard down and just allow herself to _be_ , without worrying about the consequences.

Dorothea shook her head, to get herself out of her own thoughts as much as to politely defer Edelgard's. "You're doing just fine."

"Will you promise to tell me if there's anything I can do, at least?"

"I can do that."

Edelgard frowned, but pushed no further. Perhaps the little princess was more than she seemed.

* * *

_1180: Verdant Moon_

It was a sight that was seared into her memory, hours old but feeling brand-new: Miklan - a noble, yes, and also a brother, _Sylvain's_ brother - standing close to defeat. Then a red glow, enveloping him, making the blood all but invisible as he changed irreversibly. The soldiers fled. Bernadetta screamed. And then the great beast rose, black and fanged and so much like Dorothea's worst nightmares as a child, like something she'd never have expected to see with her own waking eyes. Yet here it was, right in front of her, ready to turn each and every one of them into nothing but a splatter across the floor. Her heart almost stopped right then and there; she'd fought the battle on adrenaline alone.

And yet the Black Eagles had held firm, had seen victory; someone told Dorothea that her thunder spell had been perfectly placed, had given them a great opening to deliver the finishing blow, but they sounded so far away at that moment.

It was a mercy killing, Edelgard had said, and everyone else had agreed, even Sylvain. Especially Sylvain.

Somehow her lunch hadn't found itself on the floor among monster limbs and scales and guts, but neither had the sickness left her body, even hours later. Dinner wasn't an option, and maybe it never would be. Linhardt had dutifully healed up her scrapes and advised her to go to bed. "Sleep off the feeling," he had said. "It will work eventually."

Sleep didn't come to her. It never did, after a battle.

There came a rapping on her door, and she'd weakly opened it to find Edelgard, who seemed not too worse for the wear.

"Dorothea," she said.

"Come in," was the response.

"I couldn't sleep," Edelgard explained, unnecessarily, and it sounded like the truth. Even she could be shaken by something, it seemed; a shame it had to be this.

They seated themselves on the bed then, Dorothea's legs crossed and Edelgard's hanging from the side. As per usual, Edelgard looked the very picture of a future emperor: she'd managed to bathe at some point, had even put her hair back perfectly in place after it had been blown all about in the throes of battle. Probably had made it to dinner, too, and managed to keep composure throughout. Probably hadn't wept in the bath, like Dorothea might have if she'd been able to make it that far. As it was, she'd simply slipped into her nightgown as soon as she was alone in her room and done her best to distract herself - unsuccessfully, since the magic textbook she was supposed to be studying for a test next week lie abandoned.

It had probably been a bad decision to let Edelgard inside, to let her see her in this state. No doubt she expected more from her house, filled with students who had been taught how to steel the horrors of combat, of blood and gore, since birth - seeing it in person might not be so difficult if your very livelihood depended on bloodshed to be maintained.

"I'm sorry, I look awful. I just-"

"You look fine, and even if you didn't, it wouldn't matter. Dorothea... I only came to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"This nonsense with the crests and relics. This struggle for power and recognition they cause, even within families. That has nothing to do with you, and you stood strong with us nonetheless. For that, you have my gratitude."

Her words were unexpected; they had now spoken enough that Dorothea knew better than to expect Edelgard to scold her, but she said that she thought of Dorothea as an equal, didn't she? And that meant no special coddling toward classmates who couldn't stomach death in the way she could. Still, the coddling wasn't unwelcome.

"You came here just to say that? That's... really sweet, actually."

Edelgard smiled at that. "It's the least I can do. I know I've said this before, but please, ask me if there's anything else I can do for you."

"In that case, can I ask you a question?"

"You certainly can. What is it?"

"All this about crests... do you think it will ever end? Or are people like us doomed to be fighting against situations like this, generation after generation?"

Edelgard took a deep breath, and there was something in her eyes that Dorothea couldn't recognize. How many times would she have to wonder what Edelgard was thinking before the year ended and they never met again? Somehow, someday, she might learn just what made her classmate tick.

"There's no way of winning until it comes to an end, is there? As long as things stay the way that they are now, there will be more people like Miklan, corrupted by a lust for something they've been forbidden from, and more people like you, caught in the crossfire. But I don't believe it's inevitable - we can stop it. We can refuse to obey these hierarchies, and fight for something better. I plan to be an Emperor who can bring that dream to fruition."

There was a spark of passion in Edelgard's eyes as she spoke, her words chosen carefully, vocalized like a speech she knew well. For a moment, Dorothea believed she was right, and she grinned despite herself.

"Did you practice that in the mirror, Edie?"

"No, of course n- wait, what did you call me?"

The nickname somehow felt easy, as though sharing a near-death experience together had brought them closer, had given Dorothea permission to initiate this closeness. Edelgard wasn't the first of their classmates she had chosen to address this way, and surely she knew that; still, she blushed. If she hadn't been so disheartened, Dorothea might call it cute. She still might, on a brighter day.

"It's nice, right?" Dorothea said, and Edelgard slowly nodded. "Too much for the future Emperor who will bring her dreams to fruition?"

"...it's fine. You just took me by surprise."

"You know what? So did you."

* * *

_1180: Lone Moon_

Following Edelgard was akin to pointing a sword to the goddess herself.

And yet, to her great surprise, each and every one of her friends had chosen to follow her, not only the original Black Eagles but also the others that had joined along the way. To learn from the Professor, most of them had said at first; to support you, Edelgard, they said now. It stood to reason that each of them understood how the crest system had hurt them, but going to war was a step that she couldn't have expected most of them to choose. Until it happened, she'd been fully ready to tread this path flanked only by Hubert, the man she had come to accept as the only true constant in her life. Now, it seemed like that was no longer the case. How things could change in a day.

Here was Ferdinand, putting his heart and soul and a bit of unnecessary bravado into his battle plans. Linhardt, only complaining about the coming bloodshed a little bit. Caspar, eyes bright, offering to spar with the others for practice. Bernadetta, as far from the verge of tears as she could manage, her confidence growing a little each day. Petra, fighting for her own reasons, reminding her that there was more to win or lose than just Fódlan. Lysithea, smart as a whip despite everything she'd been through, filling a sibling-shaped void in Edelgard's heart. Felix, unreadable in his reasons for joining their crusade but with a trustworthy heart and a blade that would not waver when its target was set. Mercedes, joining for the love of a brother she barely knew, her heart big enough to accept them all easily.

And then there was Dorothea. Kind, honest Dorothea, pulled into a war from which she had everything to gain - and yet, a war that she had not chosen for herself. She'd had no idea up until the very moment it happened, none of them had other than Hubert, and yet she chose to stay. Each day, Edelgard promised herself that she'd make it worth her while, make sure that none of them regretted their choices for even a moment.

She told her as much one night, underneath the moonlight. There was little opportunity for privacy in their cramped encampment, but they were all doing their best to respect one another's need for space. If anybody was resting in listening distance, they were at least polite enough to refrain from butting in.

"Oh, Edie!" Dorothea said, laughing weakly. She couldn't bring herself to believe it, not today. Maybe not for a long while, not until they saw this coup through and it was nothing but a memory. Today, the feeling was... not regret, per se, but a certain nostalgia. A longing for what could have been, if Edelgard hadn't had such big dreams and such a strong soul. "You always say such beautiful things."

Edelgard held firm, yet there was a softness in her voice. "I say what I believe, no more and no less."

"Keep saying it, then. The future you believe in... it sounds like a paradise, like a dream that I'd wake from in an instant, and find myself on the streets again. But the way you talk about it, it sounds like it's days away from realization."

"It's not so simple, I know that. But there's no point in fighting without grandiose goals to match. To aim for anything other than absolute victory would be an insult to the lives we'll lose."

The lives we _will_ lose. Dorothea's heart sunk at that, like it did every time she saw the life leave another soldier's eyes. It had become routine now, but not easy, not comfortable. It never should.

"There you go again, sounding as if the whole thing is already predetermined, and we were just born to make it happen."

Edelgard had seen Dorthea's crocodile tears, had overheard her crying to a young gentleman she was canoodling with only to reassure her later that it was an act to politely excuse herself. These tears were different: she cried silently, her face scrunched up. She did not cry the beautiful tears of an actress, but rather the beautiful tears of someone to whom this fight, this world truly mattered.

Of course both of them knew that there was no destiny, nothing predetermined by any goddess or fate. But Edelgard had something stronger on her side: her own willpower, and the willpower of her dearest allies to match. And if believing in that was what it took for Dorothea to face each day until things were all right again, they were both happy to kindle the flame of that faith.

Dorothea, seated on the ground, deserved a room, a chair by a fireplace. A private tent, at _least_. She was certainly a sight for sore eyes, her short skirt and bare legs doomed to be mussed and dirty soon enough. Dorothea might say it was nothing to be distressed about, that she had been dirty before and would be dirty again, by the time this was all over. But after that, Edelgard decided, she'd never have to dirty herself again.

They sat together here as equals, and she couldn't help remembering something that Dorothea had said in what felt like another lifetime ago.

"Did you mean it?" she asked, "What you said about... something sparking between us?"

It wasn't the right time, she realized as soon as the words left her mouth. The wrong time, the wrong place. Perhaps the wrong lifetime.

Dorothea smiled, a radiant smile with a tinge of sadness hiding beneath. "You'll have to ask me again when we're not days away from invading a monastery."

"I will."

* * *

_1185: Pegasus Moon_

There were small moments when it felt as though everything up until then had been worth it, glimpses of the happiness that was to come in between long stretches of turmoil. Edelgard had spent each day those last five years bleeding, sweating. "Blood, sweat, and tears" was how the saying went, but she had allowed herself no time to cry. She was only human, and the sorrow she felt must have been real, yet she maintained a facade. Dorothea cried for her, sometimes, but that could not possibly be enough.

The open area outside the sanctuary had become one of Dorothea's favorite places, a perch upon which she could stay and join the birds in observing the world the world once she had no tears left to shed. Some days she'd say from dawn until dusk, to watch, to remember, to mourn those fallen that those who were yet to fall. Eventually, a friend might intervene, might pull her away from herself long enough for her to find a reason to move on; sometimes, though, none would arrive.

"What are you thinking about, Dorothea?" came Mercedes' soft voice, itself like birdsong one quiet winter day. There was a battle coming at the end of the month - there always was - and logically, she ought to be preparing, as one of the army's best generals. Yet, as their teacher said, and Edelgard agreed, it was wrong to force her: "she's one of our strongest as it is," they had said, "and will be by our side when we need her. we can't ask for anything else." So there she stood - with no tears to shed, and no goddess to pray to.

Edelgard stopped short at the voice; she too had come to check on her friend, had been only a few paces behind Mercedes, just around the corner. Now, it seemed improper to interrupt, and yet...

Mercedes seemed to be unperturbed when Dorothea glanced at her only briefly before gazing back into the sky. "I'm not sure how to explain it," Dorothea said.

"It's all right, you can take your time. I can stand here all day if you'd like."

"You're too sweet, Mercie." The nickname had come easily to her, almost as soon as Mercedes had joined their house so many years ago. A pang of something - jealousy? - hit Edelgard as she remembered how the two of them had become fast friends. If she hadn't had a thousand more important things going on than chatting with the other girls, might she have been the same way? "But you don't have to worry about me."

Mercedes shook her head. "Oh, but I do!"

"In that case, I won't actually make you wait all day," Dorothea said, then paused to take a deep breath. "What I'm thinking about is... well, a lot of things, but right now I'm fretting about everyone's happiness. I wish I could do more for all of us, you know?"

"I do know!" Mercedes said with a nod. "Did anything in particular prompt this?"

"It's... it's Edie. She pushes herself so much, and she's always working herself to the bone, and putting herself on the front lines. In the last battle, she practically lept in front of me when I was about to get hit by a stray javelin - and yes, I know she wears more armor than me, and it barely grazed her, but still! Does she have no sense of self-preservation?" she paused to take a deep breath. "Silly, isn't it? For someone like me to be worried about the Emperor?"

Should she have been part of the conversation, Edelgard would not fully know how to explain her actions. Certainly, she was more equipped to deal with a physical attack than Dorothea, but it was more than just that. When Dorothea was hurt, she felt a sorrow that ran deeper than most, as if a part of herself was suffering, too. It seemed that the feeling was mutual.

"It's not silly at all!" Mercedes responded, unknowingly mirroring Edelgard's thoughts. "We all worry about each other, but she has a special dedication to all of us. It's only natural to want to return that concern in kind."

"So we're cut from the same cloth, is that it?"

Mercedes smiled her serene smile, that expression that said that she knew more than she preferred to reveal. "I think you two have the same devotion to one another, that's all."

"I just wonder... when all of this is finally over, then what? If I were in her place, I don't think I'd be strong enough to live a normal life, after everything?"

"I shouldn't be able to live with myself, is that what you mean?" came Edelgard's voice from around the corner, in an even, controlled tone despite the misgivings she felt. Her better judgement told her that she couldn't afford to care about what the others thought about her, only whether or not they were true allies. It was easier said than done.

"Oh, Edelgard, were you listening?" said Mercedes, her voice just as controlled, yet Edelgard had long thought they just might be equal in ability to maintain composure in the face of anger. For her part, Dorothea remained silent, a slight frown on her face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. But I heard my name, and, well..." she trailed off, for once at a loss for words. It would be wrong to approach this as emperor; they were, after all, her friends. "If you have concerns about the way I'm proceeding, I'd rather you inform me directly."

"Dorothea just needed to get her thoughts in order, I think! We'll tell you if there's anything you need to know about."

There wasn't much she could object to there, Edelgard knew. Especially speaking as a friend, not a monarch. "Then I'll take my leave."

"You do that! Goodbye for now, Edelgard!" Mercedes replied, waving her away.

When she left, Dorothea finally spoke. "Thanks, Mercie."

"Oh, it's not a problem. We all need our privacy."

"To tell you the truth, I'm glad she interrupted us there. Before I went too far and thought maybe..."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe we would have a future together. But now that seems so far away."

* * *

_1185: Lone Moon_

The days were growing more dreary - not the weather, certainly, but their spirits. They drew ever closer to victory, Edelgard said, and Dorothea could do nothing but trust her with all her might. Yet even as the tides of war turned, each passing day was increasingly difficult. She had no love for war, lacked the ability to harden her heart like so many of the others, and so she did what she could to get by.

She hoped, because she had to, and because she believed in Edelgard's vision. She hoped, because giving in to despair was not an option. And she hoped, because she could use what power she had to change the world.

After each battle, their group gathered for dinner together, a way of clinging to the nostalgia of their school days when the only thing they had to fear tomorrow was not finishing their homework. There was a new, grimmer tone: Capsar rambling away, the only one of them with enough energy to ensure there was never a heavy silence; Petra writing in a journal in a language none of them could read, reaching out to a people she longed to rejoin; and Hubert and Edelgard nowhere to be seen, no longer needing to pretend that they had nothing to hide.

They'd be able to sit together again one day, all of them, all joyous. She believed that, because she had to.

Rest was elusive most nights, unless she had worn herself to the bone in combat and forced herself into a dreamless sleep. Most nights, she lay awake long past any reasonable hour, unable to stop reminiscing about the battles before, and imagining the victoires yet to come. Sleep was often broken up by nightmares, so she may as well. Today, too, Edelgard had led the charge, had refused to draw back even as magic swirled around her, threatening to shatter her layers of armor; today, Dorothea had stepped in its path, had seen Edelgard's face so clearly as magical flames lapped at her own body. For just a moment she had been unguarded, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open in shock. In that moment, she was just Edelgard, nothing else, and then just like that the moment was over and she was back to being Emperor.

She was beautiful when she was only herself. When the war was over, Dorothea longed to see more.

As of late, she had taken to writing. It had begun as a joke, saying that Edelgard ought to have an opera written about her, but there was truth to it, and who better to put the words to paper than Dorothea? The music would be a bit more complicated - she'd picked up some piano skills, but there was much left to learn, and creating music for an orchestra was a whole other skill - but it would come in time. For now, she focused on the lyrics, setting them to tunes in her head.

 _Hail the mighty Edelgard_ Dorothea wrote, quill scratching on parchment deep into the night. Would Edie even be a popular ruler? There were surely those who were hesitant about her methods. Yet she was a kind woman at heart, one with a great empathy toward others, and one day even those who had doubts could be reassured. Perhaps the opera, should it ever be produced, would help her reputation. Edie would be a sympathetic heroine, a girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders who cared about nothing but setting the world right.

When Dorothea was young, she had looked up to the tragic, passionate heroines of the opera; for the next generation, that could be Edelgard. And Dorothea... Dorothea was her equal, an indispensable character in Edie's story - she had said so herself! It made her heart flutter, thinking of herself not admiring the heroine but standing next to her.

_she fought a hundred battles  
though allies and foes both fell around her  
still she persevered  
there was no time for hesitation  
lest she appear weary  
yet still she loved within her heart  
and cared for her friends so dearly_

After the battle, Edelgard had clasped her hand, her voice tight in the way it always was when someone had nearly died; Dorothea's heart ached at the fact that she recognized that.

"Please don't do that again, Dorothea. We cannot afford to lose you."

Dorothea had faked a laugh that Edelgard very well knew was fake, but it was all she could manage. "I'm fine, Edie, and besides, it's you we can't afford to lose."

At that, Edelgard shook her head and squeezed Dorothea's hands ever tighter. "I don't want you to say that. I don't want you to ever think you matter less than I do."

She really was something special, wasn't she?

* * *

_1185: Great Tree Moon_

It was finished.

And they were alive.

At that moment, the adrenaline of battle pumping through Edelgard’s body and Byleth cradled in her arms, it had felt like there would never be anything else besides what she felt right now: accomplishment, victory, _relief_. And yet time moved on, and soon the cheers of the other Black Eagles filled her ears as the rest of the world came into focus once again.

Soon enough, Caspar and Ferdinand swept them both to their feet, and Byleth offered a grateful smile as Caspar gave them a shoulder for support. Ferdinand offered Edelgard the same, but she declined graciously, feeling stronger than ever after their victory. She'd refused to consider losing as an option, had left it to Hubert to make plans to leave the continent in the best possible hands should they both fall, and still, it was hard to comprehend that this was really, truly not a fantasy but her new reality.

Before she knew it, the whole group was pulled into a massive hug, full of cheering and mumbled words of relief and a "do you _mind_ " from Felix, and-

"We _won_ Edie!" came Dorothea's voice, clear as day among the hubbub.

There was still so much work to be done, but today, Edelgard's heart was full to bursting.

One thing led to another and soon enough they had set up an impromptu feast, greatly helped along by the plans that Mercedes and Lysithea had orchestrated beforehand, giving instructions to servants before they rode off to battle and stockpiling hidden treats and drinks. An _impressive_ number of drinks. Which Edelgard refrained from indulging in; their victory provided enough of a high.

She sat on the steps just outside the dining hall, the hooting and hollering of the party behind her accompanied by a jaunty tune played by a group of traveling bards that someone had managed to rustle up. There was a barely touched plate of bread and cheeses beside her, and a mug of ginger beer beside that, and she sat staring into the starry sky, trying to make sense of everything now that they'd taken such a momentous step.

Hubert had sat with her earlier, long enough to make entirely sure that she was in good spirits, and didn't need anything, and _yes_ , Hubert, I don't require you here all night, go find Ferdinand, I think he was looking for you. Byleth had come next, and had little to say, but they'd shared a long moment together, content in the mutual knowledge that regardless of their paths in the future, they understood each other perfectly, and had created a bond that would last a lifetime. It felt, somehow, like the last chapter of a story, like they had both died and been reborn and could now look toward the future as brand new people. After a long moment together, Byleth had left, silently as they'd come.

Dorothea was the third to pay her a visit, and Edelgard was beginning to think that she ought to have just stayed inside and not put everyone else through the trouble of finding her.

"Dorothea."

"Edie!" Dorothea replied, a lit in her voice and two cups in her hand. "Do you want one?"

Edelgard shook her head as a silent response, and Dorothea placed them both to the side before seating herself next to her. "I know what you mean. I don't want to forget tonight."

"We've been through the memorable part already. I wouldn't fault you if you indulged."

"Have we?" Dorothea responded mysteriously. "I'm sure there's more we can do to make memories."

"You sound like you have something in mind. What are you up to, Dorothea?"

Without warning, Dorothea leaned over and placed a kiss on Edelgard's cheek. "Oh, you know, that kind of thing."

Edelgard felt her heart do a series of twists and turns as she attempted to process what had transpired. Dimly, she realized that it had been years since anybody had done that, and it had always been overly physical relatives, not friends. _Certainly_ not a friend as lovely as Dorothea.

"Oh no, was I that bad?" Dorothea said, faking a pout, but there was a touch of real worry in her tone. Edelgard could only grow redder as she attempted to form a sentence.

"No, it wasn't bad, I-" she finally managed, still largely at a loss for words. It was no secret that Dorothea enjoyed the company of women, no secret that she hadn't entirely ruled out the thought of _Edelgard_ as a companion, and yet...

And yet Edelgard had never allowed herself the indulgence of imagining herself in a relationship, she realized. Not really. She'd already begun to make plans to overthrow the church by the time she was old enough to consider it, and so it had been pushed to the side. Now, one obstacle was removed - one of many, to be sure, but one obstacle nonetheless.

Her chin rested on her hand. "You're so cute, Edie. You can kiss me back, if you want to. Or punch me."

"I couldn't punch you, not over something like that." And that left only one response, didn't it?

Immediately her lack of experience was clear, Edelgard was sure of that. When she kissed Dorothea, the other girl hadn't been fully prepared; she'd gone in all at once, as if she was trying to outpace an opponent in battle rather than create a romantic mood. They practically collided, their foreheads hitting one another and their lips barely touching. She wanted to sink into the floor, but Dorothea could only laugh in response.

"Do you want to try that again?"

And she did, and it was much, much better now that their lips touched more slowly, now that Dorothea had a chance to kiss her back, her lips perfectly soft and her skin smelling like a tonka perfume. Dorothea's mouth moved achingly slowly, and Edelgard longed to deepen the kisses but wasn't entirely sure how so instead she waited, allowing Dorothea to lead her along, down a path of an unknown bliss.

It was impossible to tell how long they spent, just the two of them underneath the stars with the thumps and whoops of the party as their backdrop. Not long enough, Edelgard thought, as Dorothea pulled away, keeping her arms wrapped around her.

"That was nice," Edelgard said, when she could finally manage a full sentence.

"Would you like to do this... again? After we've moved on to the next steps in our lives, I mean."

"I think I would. You said so yourself, I should do something just for me."

Dorothea hummed in contentment.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seraphknights)!


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